Tale of an Unlucky Hero
by Yondaime Namikaze
Summary: "Will it be interesting?" "Is it funny?" "Well…we will just have to find out, won't we?" He turned his gaze to the fire and watched the flames dance, his eyes dimming slightly as his mind was transported back to an earlier time, about fifty years into the past. "Let us begin…"
1. Tell Us A Story!

**I know that I'm still new to the****_How To Train Your Dragon_****fandom, but I wanted to try writing a longer story. There were some criteria to this one that brought it to be and will be used to move this story forward. First, I want to prove a point. The point in question will be brought up later. Second, the story had to include a frame. Basically, there was to be a story within a story. Most of this story will feature this "story within a story" setting.**

**This is a little outside what I usually write, but I think it's going to turn out well. Feel free to let me know either way, good or bad.**

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Prologue: Tell Us A Story!  
Grade Level: 5.8

Winter had come again. Of course, winter in Berk lasted most of the year. It tended to hang on with both of its invisible hands, refusing to let go. In just a few days, Berk would celebrate its anticipated annual holiday. Snoggletog. He still thought it was a stupid name, but it is what it is and he was too old to complain. Besides, his family would be gathering in his home this year. In fact, they should be there shortly. He could not argue that this would cheer the atmosphere that had settled within his home. Ever since his wife of many years had moved on to Vallhalla, the home had been too quiet.

He sat in his usual chair, staring at the slowly-dying fire crackling in the fireplace. His father had built this house. How long ago that was now! This house, by some miracle of fate, had managed to withstand multiple dragon raids and attacks over the years, but of course, there hadn't been one of those in almost fifty years.

As his thoughts moved to dragons, he shifted his gaze to fall upon the abnormally large dark shadow in the corner of the room. It seemed to alter slightly and he silently grinned to himself. At least he was not alone in this home; he could count on his dragon to be there for him. It had been this way since they met and would be that way until death. This dragon, the once elusive and highly-sought Night Fury, is his partner. Back in the day, they used to fly all the time, together, always in sync with each other. They needed each other. It had been awhile since they had last flown together, age slowly taking its toll on them both.

A knock on the door alerted both man and dragon to the presence of another. Both jumped slightly, still very much in sync with the other. His family had arrived. He stood from the chair and walked slowly to the front door. Over the years he had grown accustomed to the slightly uneven gait caused by his metal leg and his natural one. No longer did it bother him. In fact, over the last almost fifty years, he had forgotten how it felt to walk with two natural legs. This was now the norm and it felt like second nature to him.

Opening the door, he came face-to-face with the families of his two daughters, the youngest of his three offspring. Quickly, he invited them in and their children ran to the now-awake Night Fury who still lay curled up in the corner. Both sets of parents urged them to be gentle with the aged dragon, but the elder man assured his daughters that he would keep a close eye on them and, if he slipped up, the dragon would also warn them when enough was enough.

The elders sat by the fire, catching up on old news and learning new news. The man smiled as he listened to all that the two sets of grown Vikings had to offer. He did not get out as much anymore as he would like due to his age, the weather, and his leg, but it was always nice to see his family as often as he could.

His son was expected to also join them that night once he had finished up some chiefly duties. At one time, the man had also been the chief, succeeding his own father. Yes, no one had expected him to become chief. It had taken a miracle to change their minds and what a miracle it had been!

The man's daughters and their families had brought dinner and his son was also expected to bring something as well. Once his son's family came, they would eat dinner together. Over in the corner, his dragon companion finally shifted slightly, warning the kids that playtime was finished. A little disappointed, they ran out the backdoor to play in the small yard which bordered one of the island's many forests.

The sun dipped lower in the sky as the company found ways to pass the time. Finally, the older man's son and his own family joined them and dinner began. By the time dinner had finished, all were safely filled with home-cooked food. Since his wife died, the older man had not eaten home-cooked meals and preferred to walk the short distance to the mead hall…whenever he wanted a meal, a need that was not as common as it used to be.

After dinner, the older man returned to his chair as his grandchildren, a good handful of them now, crowded around.

"Grandpa, will you tell us a story?" one of the older ones piped up, creating a spur among the younger. It was not long until they all were begging for a story, the noises again waking the elderly dragon.

Looking to his own children who sat quietly nearby, he easily read their expressions. Their father had always told them great stories of worlds they could only dream about, ones he had seen atop the back of his majestic dragon in the days of their youth.

Running a hand along the short white-haired beard that grew to the edge of his chin, the man debated what story to tell. "I have the perfect tale. This one is a story about a hero, a strong, courageous, and smart young lad who was mistaken by his village as a coward and weak. It was only when they looked past his appearance that they were finally able to see him for who he really was. Would you like to hear that one?"

"Will it be interesting?" one of the younger ones asked. "Is it funny?" another spoke up.

"Well…we will just have to find out, won't we?" He turned his gaze to the fire and watched the flames dance, his eyes dimming slightly as his mind was transported back to an earlier time, about fifty years into the past. "Let us begin…"

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**That was a longer prologue than I intended to write, but, in a way, I thought it would be longer. Starting with the next chapter, this older man will narrate the rest of the story. Thus begins the story in a story. I have given the frame.**

**I am really interested in this and, based on the response, I will update. I've already gotten a rough chapter outline prepared. Of course, I start student teaching practice on Tuesday, so that will factor in as well. Anyway, thanks for checking this out and I hope you enjoy.**

**Posted: January 19, 2013**


	2. So It Begins

**I apologize for taking so long to come back to this story. Honestly, I hate posting an opening chapter to a story and the disappearing. However, student teaching is complete and graduation is over. I may have more time to write now (when I'm not searching for a job). Thanks for being patient. Hopefully this update does not disappoint!**

**P.S. Just a reminder that this chapter (and the rest of the story) will be told from the perspective of our narrator (see 1****st**** chapter).**

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Chapter 1: So It Begins…

Grade Level: 4.5

This story takes place in Berk. It's twelve days north of hopeless and a few degrees south of freezing to death. It's located solidly on the meridian of misery. The village situated on this island is, well, in a word, sturdy. By the time this tale takes place, it has been in place for seven generations, but every single building is new. There is fishing, hunting and a charming view of the sunsets. The only problems are the pests. You see, most places have mice or mosquitos. This place however has…dragons.

Most people would leave. Not the people who lived here. They are Vikings. They have stubbornness issues. This is the story of a young Vikings known simply as Hiccup. Great name, I know, but it's not the worst. Parents in this village believe that a hideous name will frighten off gnomes and trolls. Like the charming demeanor of all Vikings wouldn't do that.

Trust me, this is pretty much all of the background information that you will need to know to understand Hiccup's story. Our story begins in the wee morning hours of, what seemed to be, just another average day on Berk. On this night, Hiccup could not sleep. He lays awake in bed for hours, tossing and turning, but, no matter what he tried, sleep evades him. Finally, determining that he just wasn't meant to get any sleep that night, he climbs from his bed and walks to the desk sitting in his bedroom.

You see, Hiccup is not your average Viking. Oh no, not even close. While Vikings are burly, tough fighters, Hiccup is small and prefers to settle disputes without violence and fighting. Hiccup is also an inventor. He is most contented when sketching out new designs and building prototypes based on these designs. This is what Hiccup chooses to do because he cannot sleep. _**Maybe**_, he thinks to himself, _**if I sketch out some designs, I will start to tire. **_

The inner workings of Hiccup's mind set to work and when he felt that he had a suitable design, the boy set to sketching it out. No sooner had the charcoal tip of Hiccup's drawing utensil hit the paper than he hears commotion from outside in the village. At this time of night, Berk is usually quite silent. Vikings need their beauty sleep, afterall.

Running downstairs to the front door of the home he shares with his father, Hiccup pulls back the heavy front door…and comes almost face-to-face with a huge dragon. The clan calls this one a "Monstrous Nightmare". Rightfully named. This dragon was a monster that definitely used to give Hiccup himself nightmares.

The dragon's acute hearing must have honed in on the opening of the door because it sprouted its deadly fire. Over the years (and numerous dragon attacks), Hiccup could react pretty well on instinct. He slams the door shut, just missing the flames but feeling the heat burning on the other side of the door.

When the heat subsides, Hiccup takes the opportunity to leave the house. His father, most likely, has already left the house so there was no shame in also joining in on the fun. The boy grabs a nearby fur blanket and wraps it around himself. The tactic works and he breaks through the charred door unscathed.

Of course, there is one thing that I may have forgotten to mention. Hiccup is very unlucky. It's true. What do I mean by that? Well, you'll find out in just a bit. Just keep paying close attention to this story. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, Hiccup just left his home.

He runs through the village, dodging all the surrounding commotion. Side-step an axe here. Under a log there. In his haste to leave, Hiccup did not pick up a weapon. He would not have picked one up anyway. Hiccup is not out here to fight, at least, not yet.

Despite his unlucky tendencies, Hiccup is actually a very smart boy. That is yet another reason why the villagers despised him. Berk Vikings really dislike when anyone is smarter than them; it makes them question their own intelligence.

Hiccup's mind tends to think several steps in advance, most of the time. That and his size help him to dodge the minefield just outside his house. As he turns back to take one more look at his home, he is hit from behind a running Viking, easily knocking him to the ground.

The Viking in question, one of his father's friends, greets the boy and scurries away. Picking himself from the ground, Hiccup continues on his mission. Again, his size, instinct, and brainpower allows him to pick out a route as he winds through the mass of villagers, dodging them. All too often, he hears them telling him to get back inside. It is dark, though. Did they recognize him or did they think he was just that generic Viking kid who wanted to get out there and slay some dragons?

His mission is halted, however, when he hears his name and feels himself lifted up by the fur vest he often wears.

"What is he doing out here?" That is addressed to the villagers, none of whom are paying attention. "What are you doing out here?" That is addressed to Hiccup. "Get inside!" the burly man commends, shoving Hiccup aside.

This man is Stoick the Vast, chief of the tribe. They say that when he was a baby, he popped a dragon's head clean off of its shoulders. Do I believe it? Yes, I do. Enough about him, though. This is Hiccup's story.

_**Oh gods, he is angry because of the attack. Not good!**_ Hiccup retreats to the shadows, preparing to continue on his mission. He stops, however, when he hears what the chief says next.

"What have we got?"

"Gronckles, Nadders, Zipplebacks. Oh, and Hoark saw a Monstrous Nightmare."

"Any Night Furies?"

"None so far."

"Good."

_**Interesting**_, Hiccup thinks to himself. He sees the two leave in another direction and takes that as a signal to release the breath that he has been holding and continue on his way. He ran past the torches, which Vikings were lighting.

"Raise the torches!"

Okay, the fight just got serious! Hiccup is always unsure why they choose to raise these torches. It isn't like they ever scare away the dragons. However, the Vikings did it everytime when battles between human and dragons continue with neither side showing sign of surrender. He has to get to his destination and fast. Luckily, it is just up ahead.

There is no time to lose! Entering, Hiccup peels off his vest and opts for a heavy leather apron instead.

"Nice of you to join the party. I thought you'd been carried off," the blacksmith, already hard at work pounding out weapons, greeted him.

"What, who, me?" Hiccup replies, securing his apron around his small torso_**. And my voice cracks. Great, trying to prove a point here and growing up has other plans.**_ "Nah, come on, I'm way too muscular for their tastes," he finishes, all while struggling to lift a very heavy metal device back into its storage location_**. So…all I've successfully proven is how much of a teenager I actually am. Fantastic,**_ Hiccup thinks to himself sarcastically, but continues anyway. "They wouldn't know what to do with…all this," he boasted, flexing his non-existent muscles. _**Besides, you don't need always need strength if you can mask it with large brainpower**_. Except he did not say this out loud. It would not have mattered anyway because another insult from the blacksmith ensued.

"Well, they need toothpicks, don't they?"

That's Gobber, for you. Gobber is the village blacksmith and Hiccup has been his apprentice ever since he was little. Well, littler.

During these dragon raids, Hiccup's job is to assist Gobber in repairing damaged weapons along with making new ones. Though he wants to someday get out there in the action, he is content with his job for now. At least he is able to do something to help. It's a step up from where he could be.

Opening the window, Hiccup is immediately met with weapons needing work. The Vikings dumping off the pile leave quickly and Hiccup knows exactly what to do next. Without looking or batting an eye, he grabs the pile and places it over the fire. Fanning the flames to warm them up, he takes the time to mentally plan._** Heat the fire. Melt the metal down slightly til flexible. Pound back into place. **_To be honest, he did not have to mentally tell himself this. It has, by now, been ingrained into his very being.

Well, at least now you see what I mean when I said earlier that every single building is new. Old village. Lots and lots of new houses. There is always days upon days of rebuilding after each dragon attack.

Sure, Hiccup likes his job, but that doesn't mean that he did not still look out the forge window every so often with longing to be on the front lines. Why could he not be fighting like the others his age? Out the window now, he could see Fishlegs, Snotlout, the twins: Ruffnut and Tuffnut, and Astrid. They were gathering water to put out the fires around the village. _**They're going to need more than that to put out all these fires**_, Hiccup calculated, but he is not to leave the forge until Gobber gives the all clear. Still…Astrid is out there. What he wouldn't give to…Don't give me that look, even smart teenage boys have uncontrollable hormones! But…yeah, their job is so much cooler.

Leaning out the window to get a better look as the group ran by, Hiccup is halted by a grip on the back of his shirt.

Hiccup has questioned himself before about whether he really does enjoy working in the forge during dragon attacks, but, this time, he is really debating it.

"Oh come on. Let me out, please. I need to make my mark."

"Oh you've made plenty of marks, all in the wrong places."

_**Again, not my fault. I'm just really unlucky.**_ But, again, he did not say this outloud._** Why is it so hard to admit to everyone that I'm not stupid or a failure but just unlucky**_? He always wondered this. "Please, two minutes. I'll kill a dragon. My life will get infinitely better. I might even get a date."

There is no reasoning with Gobber. He is just as stubborn as they come. "You can't life a hammer. You can't swing an axe. You can't even throw one of these." He lifts up a bola, but it is immediately snatched from his hand, much to his shock and dismay, by a Viking who uses it to catch a Gronckle.

_**Now I'll prove to him that size means nothing**_, Hiccup thinks to himself as he backs up to reveal an object behind him. "Ok, fine, but this will throw it for me." He remarks, patting a wooden object of his own creation. Of course, this slight touch messed with the calibration, causing the contraption to fire against Hiccup's issues. Gobber side-steps the flying weapon, but, unfortunately, it hits another Viking, successfully knocking him out. _**Note to self, fix the calibration issue.**_

"See? Now this right here is what I'm talking about!" Gobber yelled.

_**Great. Now, I've angered him. Gobber only yells when he's upset. Better tell him the truth**_. "Mild calibration issue…"

"Don't, no. Hiccup," he stops Hiccup before the boy can fully explain the issue.

_**Just my luck again. This always happens. I tell the truth, exactly as it is and no one ever believes me. They just jump to this conclusion that I'm useless, a total failure. They refuse to look past this. Ever. Oh wait, Gobber's still talking. **_

"If you ever want to get out there to fight dragons, you need to stop all…this," Gobber informed Hiccup with a discouraged look while gesturing to his entire being.

"But you just pointed to all of me!" Hiccup retorted. _**Come on, Gobber. It's not always about being small and weak. Admit it, just like everyone else, you consider me a failure because my unluckiness makes me look to be so.**_

"Yes, that's it! Stop being all of you!"

"Oh…" Hiccup drawls, nodding. _**Did he catch my sarcastic expression? Probably not. Alright, Gobber, how do you propose that I go about this? Give me your best answer.**_

Hiccup's inner monologue is broken by Gobber's imitation. "Oh…yes!"

"You, sir, are playing a dangerous game. Keeping this much raw Viking-ness…contained! There will be consequences!" He tries to make himself as large as possible. An almost-impossible feat for such a small Viking, but his threats fall upon deaf ears.

"I'll take my chances. Sword. Sharpen. Now."

The sword is tossed lightly to the boy who has very little reaction time to bring his arms in front of him to catch it. The dull weapon is heavier than it looks and the boy lets out an involuntary grunt from the effort it takes to hold it. _**This is looking so well for my attempts to show Gobber that I'm not just some scrawny Viking**_, Hiccup thinks sarcastically to himself as he sways off-balance to the spinning grinder where swords are taken for sharpening.

_**One day, I'll get out there**_, he thinks to himself as he sharpens the sword, _**because killing a dragon is everything around here. There are so many options too. A Nadder head is sure to get me at least noticed. Gronckles are tough. Taking down one of those would definitely get me a girlfriend. A Zippleback? Exotic. Two heads, twice the status.**_

Outside, the battle rages on. From a nearby tower, Hiccup could hear the defenders saying that the dragons had found the sheep. Stoick is yelling directions and Hiccup can hear the tower spinning, giving those on it a new target area to fire their weapons.

_**And then, there's the Monstrous Nightmare. Only the best Vikings go after those. They have this nasty habit of setting themselves on fire. No doubt that Stoick the Vast is out there right now taking care of one of them while I sit here sharpening dull swords**_, Hiccup thinks, downcast.

_**But the ultimate prize is the dragon, no one's ever seen. We call it the**_…_**wait a minute, that sound…could it be?**_ The sword slips from the sharpening wheel as Hiccup looks up_**. It has to be the**_…

"Night Fury!"

"Get down!"

A white-hot blast of blue fire takes down the tower where Stoick the Vast and his comrades were moments ago firing rocks at dragons. Hiccup hears Stoick yell orders to the others to jump as the tower collapses in a white blast of heat.

Hiccup, who had ran to the window, hopes to finally catch a glimpse of this elusive dragon. Who wouldn't, though? _**This thing never steals food, never shows itself and never misses. Look, it just fired another direct hit on that tower. The boy leans further out the window, but it is no use. The dragon seems to blend in with the night sky. Guess that's why it is called the Night Fury.**_

_**No one has ever killed a Night Fury. That's why I'm going to be the first. I have a mission now and nothing will stop me from completing it. I will not rest until I have accomplished this. Finally then they will see that Hiccup the Useless is merely just Hiccup the Unlucky.**_

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**This chapter takes up through the first roughly 5.5 minutes of the film. Yes, I am watching it as I write this story. That's how this story came to be. I watched the film one day and determined that it seemed (to me at least) that Hiccup wasn't really a failure. He's actually quite intelligent for a kid in his early teenage years. Instead, he just seems to be very unlucky. Hopefully, throughout this story, I, through the words of the story narrator, can prove this to all of you lovely readers. Thank you again for tuning in and I hope to get the next chapter out much quicker than it took to write up this one.**


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